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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896198">a peanutless peanut, perhaps</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweryfran/pseuds/floweryfran'>floweryfran</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>and i knew for sure (i was loved) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Big Brother Harley Keener, Harley Keener &amp; Peter Parker Friendship, Harley Keener &amp; Peter Parker are Siblings, Harley Keener is a Good Bro, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:47:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweryfran/pseuds/floweryfran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“No—no, Harley, don’t—”</em>
</p><p><em>“I’m going to</em> eat <em>it and nothing, including you, is going to stop me.”</em></p><p>Tony is pretty close to pulling his hair right out of his head. He was gifted with non-balding genes, and he’s literally willing to ruin that right now. </p><p>He didn’t mean to, like, fully, creepily stalk the kids. He’d pulled up FRIDAY’s security cam feed for a routine inspection and the two of them had been in the cinema room, swallowed by enormous beanbag chairs, surrounded by a littering of aluminum snack bags, bed-headed and watching what Tony knows is <em>Jurassic Park-</em> his Jeff Goldblum detectors are fool-proof- so he figured he’d check if the hand-waving, impassioned conversation they’re having is in any way filmic discourse. </p><p>It isn’t, for the record. </p><p>It is, however, the menace twins planning something stupid, which, really, he should never, ever expect anything else, at all. It would imply a fracture in space-time if they were being responsible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener &amp; Peter Parker, Harley Keener &amp; Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Harley Keener &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>and i knew for sure (i was loved) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>507</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a peanutless peanut, perhaps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>no actual allergic reaction happens i swear. god i miss writing harley with my whole heart.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“No—no, Harley, don’t—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m going to </span>
  </em>
  <span>eat</span>
  <em>
    <span> it and nothing, including you, is going to stop me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony is pretty close to pulling his hair right out of his head. He was gifted with non-balding genes, and he’s literally willing to ruin that right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t mean to, like, fully, creepily stalk the kids. He’d pulled up FRIDAY’s security cam feed for a routine inspection and the two of them had been in the cinema room, swallowed by enormous beanbag chairs, surrounded by a littering of aluminum snack bags, bed-headed and watching what Tony knows is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jurassic Park</span>
  </em>
  <span>- his Jeff Goldblum detectors are fool-proof- so he figured he’d check if the hand-waving, impassioned conversation they’re having is in any way filmic discourse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It isn’t, for the record. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is, however, the menace twins planning something stupid, which, really, he should never, ever expect anything else, at all. It would imply a fracture in space-time if they were being responsible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your body won’t just </span>
  </em>
  <span>not notice</span>
  <em>
    <span> it has peanuts in it if you eat it inside a Taki nest. Also, that is a terrible choice in flavor-mixing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Doesn’t Mexican chocolate have spicy shit in it?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harley says. Tony is really struggling not to go down there and stop them. He’s trying to trust Peter, though, and what little, minuscule bit of common sense he has. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“It would be just like that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, just like that, plus anaphylactic shock, so fun, so nice,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> says Peter. Good. That’s a good sign. Harley, historically, has only ever listened to three people- Peter, Rhodey, and his sister Poppy- so maybe they’ve got him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then Harley says </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Exactly!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>with far too much excitement, and Tony decides enough is enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He clicks into the overhead microphone. He feels like a teenager doing the morning announcements in high school. “Not to interrupt,” he says dryly, definitely meaning to interrupt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He savors it as both boys leap into the air with a pair of strangled shouts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Motherfucker,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harley hollers, rubbing his chest. He glares up as if Tony is inside the ceiling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Violation of privacy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, when you start planning to eat peanut M&amp;Ms, which you have a life-threatening allergy to, I think you start losing that particular human right,” Tony says. “Harley, what the fuck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have my Epipen in my pocket, ready to go!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony buries his face in his palms and takes a deep breath. He drops his hands and bumps his forehead on the tabletop repeatedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I mean,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> says Peter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“He probably would have been fine, actually, after the shot.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Tony is very glad May won’t budge on the whole partial-custody thing. He can’t handle two. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Two.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will come down there right now if I need to,” he says. “I refuse to let you do that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I just want to try one,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harley whines. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve never tried peanut anything except that banana bread I accidentally had the reaction to when I was three.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tony says emphatically. “Kid. No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you make me a peanutless peanut?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. What? No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hmm,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> says Peter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How would I even make a peanutless peanut?” Tony says. “I don’t know biology, I don’t know—fucking—agriculture.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s for you to figure out, and me to eat,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> says Harley. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“For my birthday. You have until October.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs tiredly. “Can I trust you not to eat it or do I need to come down there myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mm, probably safe,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> says Harley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably?” Tony says. He covers the microphone with his hand to mute himself. “Jesus fuck, will I ever trust him again? Probably not.” He moves his palm from the mic. “I’m coming to hang out with you. Now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You weren’t invited to the movie marathon,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harley says crossly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter stands, as if it will bring him closer to some imaginary microphone in the ceiling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“This is a formal invitation to our Jurassic Park marathon. Are-ess-vee-pee aye-ess-aye-pee.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I accept,” Tony says primly, grabbing his distance glasses and a hoodie from the bench. “Be there in five. Can you hold him down until then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes sir I will do my best.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey—get off, get off! To—mph! Ahh! He’s smothering me!”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony, in the elevator now, cannot see the video, but damn wishes he could. “Good,” he says. He’s sure FRIDAY is still connecting his voice to the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m gonna diieee,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harley yells. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tell Poppy—I love her—pet Stevie for me—one last time—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not killing you!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Peter says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“This is just an aggressive snuggle, pretty much.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator doors open on the cinema floor and Tony hastens off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Saaave me,” Harley says dramatically. “Lord have mercy. Uncle. I call uncle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re pinned on the carpeted floor, Peter sitting on top of Harley’s chest, his hands holding Harley’s wrists. Peter is glaring reproachfully at the other, eyes squinted half-closed. He decidedly is not standing up, though, which is good, because Tony certainly doesn’t believe Harley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony stares at them for a moment before they see him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scrambles forward, throws himself blissfully onto the pile, and grins, completely content as they huff in pain and kick at him. Yup. His favorite place to be. Annoying his kids.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tHANK YOU FOR READING!!!! leave me some lil comments, whisper smth to me, idk, be my friend, leave me secret love notes, whatever u vibe with</p></blockquote></div></div>
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